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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050699">The Perfect Muse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/judyhard1ng/pseuds/judyhard1ng'>judyhard1ng</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Betazoid, Deanna being a softie, Empathy, F/F, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Holodecks/Holosuites, Lakeside, Lesbians in Space, Poetry, Scotland, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, minor angst??</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:54:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,668</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050699</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/judyhard1ng/pseuds/judyhard1ng</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Deanna and Beverly enjoy some downtime with a few books.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beverly Crusher/Deanna Troi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Perfect Muse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/casual_mythologist_3791/gifts">casual_mythologist_3791</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey babes! sorry for another long pause on blue burns, the mental health this month really said "bye"</p><p>anyways, i should be updating that before christmas i hope. in the meantime, enjoy a little gift for my friend orion!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Deanna hummed to herself as she ran conditioner through her hair, massaging her curls as warm water trickled down her back. She was in an exceptionally good mood, especially given the past few weeks on the Enterprise. While she loved her job, she did have to admit that she was grateful for a break.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She continued hum as she rinsed and stepped out of the shower, sticking her head under the sonic dryer. As her curls whipped around her head, she closed her eyes with a contented smile. Beverly had invited her to have lunch on the holodeck, as a destresser from the week. She had had to remind herself that it wasn’t a date--she knew she certainly wanted it to be, and she thought Beverly did too, given the feelings that Deanna had been sensing from her lately. But, Beverly hadn’t said anything, and Deanna did not feel it was her place to pry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beverly tended to put up walls, and Deanna couldn’t be entirely sure if what she was sensing from Beverly was romantic or just Beverly letting herself feel comfortable with being happy. But either way, she knew that they both needed this break. Beverly’s walls were not strong enough to prevent Deanna from sensing how hard this week had been on her. And Beverly was picking the venue, so she was excited to explore somewhere personal to Beverly, to get closer to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beverly paced Jean-Luc’s quarters, perusing his shelves as she brushed her hair. He had allowed her access to his books for her picnic with Deanna, after she had thought of a nice surprise. She could always tell when Deanna was stressed--when people were as close as they were, it came naturally. At this point, Beverly merely needed to glance at Deanna to tell how she was feeling, and she wasn’t even the empath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She snorted to herself as she grabbed a few poetry selections, tucking the books under one arm and striding out of Jean-Luc’s quarters. She had decided to surprise Deanna with a Scottish loch, tucked into a valley. She wasn’t sure if reading poetry was too sappy, but she decided to bring the books anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She placed them in the bottom of the picnic basket she had replicated, her heart suddenly thudding abnormally in her chest. She tried to steady her nerves with a breath, but her exhale shook and she ran her hand through her hair, trying to calm herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She and Deanna spent time together constantly--in fact, probably more than any of her other friends. Especially the past few months, where she was seeing Deanna constantly. She recalled how one night, Deanna had had a counselling appointment she had moved. Beverly had been downright angry and had nearly cried over not being able to see Deanna like regular.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s when she realized, she thought. That’s probably when she knew, when she understood in her soul that Deanna meant more to her than a friend. How can you explain falling in love? </span>
  <em>
    <span>You can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought. It’s beyond words. It’s a knowledge. And Beverly knew. She knew with every day she spent in Deanna’s presence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She double checked the basket had everything she wanted before she made her way to the holodeck. She opened the program and felt a cool wind, the sky clear and sunny. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Deanna will probably get cold.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Computer, raise temperature by three degrees Celsius.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked out over the loch and smiled, heading down the path to the shore of the loch, spreading the blanket out. She decided she wanted it to feel even more like home. She stated, “Computer, grow a fully bloomed cacao tree, five hundred meters away.” The slight smell of chocolate blew in with the next gust of breeze, and she smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She continued to tweak the program, making the loch deeper and removing the midges--the holodeck was a little too accurate sometimes. She finally felt satisfied and laid the food out before taking the small hike back up to the exit. She only had to wait a few seconds before Deanna stepped in wearing a gauzy purple dress with a multilayered skirt and scooped bodice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She felt her cheeks warming as she said, “Welcome to Scotland.” Deanna smiled and took her hand. Beverly sent a silent prayer to the air that her hand didn’t sweat as she led Deanna to the loch shore. They often held hands, but it had always been platonic, and brief. As Deanna squeezed her hand and looked around the holodeck with shining eyes, Beverly felt suddenly flushed, and she let go a little too quickly when they reached the blanket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Denna sat down and surveyed the food. There were crepes with ham and mustard,  fried mushrooms, and chocolate mousse. The perfect blend of their favorite cuisines. She sat down, and Beverly felt her throat go slightly dry as the tulle fluttered around her legs, the sun catching the purple.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She poured Deanna some of the synthehol wine and the two began to eat in silence. Beverly tried to find something to say. What could she say that wasn’t about Deanna, about her smile and her hair and her empathy and her compassion and her bravery? Why was it that all of a sudden, the words she wanted to spill out of her were swallowed away with her bites? What was she afraid of?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deanna stared at the loch below them. The water was rippling slightly in a warm breeze, and she thought she smelled hints of chocolate. She looked back at Beverly. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was glancing at her and glancing away. Deanna could almost feel the lump in the redhead’s throat, and she knew how desperately Beverly wanted to tell her. What was she afraid of?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She noticed a book or two behind the basket and decided that easing into conversation would be the best way to relieve some of the tension. She picked it up and said around a mouthful of mushroom, “Whath’s thishg?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The food in her mouth garbled her sentence, and Beverly laughed, the sound breaking the silence in the dry air. Beverly edged a little closer to Deanna on the blanket, their knuckles briefly touching as she reached for the books in question. Her breathing sped up as she handed the book to Deanna, the two making eye contact that sent ripples of hope down Beverly’s spine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For some reason, she felt less afraid. The way Deanna’s deep black eyes gazed at hers calmed her nerves. She said, “Shakespeare’s Sonnets and Poems,” she said out loud. Deanna raised an eyebrow and she flushed, scrambling to say, “I thought it would be nice. I know you appreciate art, and I thought it could be a nice way to relax.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deanna smiled and said, “You read me like a book.” She immediately started to giggle at her own joke, and Beverly playfully smacked her, jostling Deanna’s armas she began to flip through pages. Beverly exaggerated her groan at the joke as she grabbed another book from the pile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deanna cleared her throat and said, “I think I found one. Sonnet 43.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beverly smiled and leaned against a tree, the rough bark providing a comforting anchor as Deanna began to read. “When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, for all the day they view things unrespected...” Beverly closed her eyes. She absorbed things best when she isolated that sense, so she let the darkness wipe over her as Deanna’s voice continued, a soft, pure sound in the quiet air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, and darkly bright, are bright in dark directed. Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright, how would thy shadow's form form happy show..” Beverly smiled to herself. The way Deanna paused showed that Deanna was absorbing it as much as she was. Her voice was soft, and it sent tingles shooting up Beverly’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...To the clear day with thy much clearer light, when to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so! How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made, by looking on thee in the living day..” Beverly gasped a little. Deanna’s voice was firmer now, and the words...she opened her eyes a little to see Deanna staring right at her, a tear in her eye that she must not have thought Beverly could see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade, through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay! All days are nights to see till I see thee, and nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.” Beverly heard the soft thump as the book was closed, and she opened her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, all she could do was not cry. There was something so beautiful in Deanna reading about beauty and light next to her, the two of them alone in each other’s radiance. And it seemed that Deanna was holding back something, something that Beverly wanted to pry open with gilded key.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deanna tucked a curl behind her ear and said, “I should read you some Betazed poetry next time.” Beverly smirked and sat up a little straighter, her leg brushing Deanna’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next time?” she asked, her heart stopping for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to do this again,” Deanna confirmed, a small blush tinging her cheeks. Beverly smiled and Deanna said, “But for now, it’s your turn.” Beverly nodded and grabbed the book, not glancing at the title which happened to read </span>
  <em>
    <span>Passages Relevant to the Poetics of Sappho </span>
  </em>
  <span>by Gregory Nacy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She opened to a random page, clearing her throat slightly. “I would much prefer to see the lovely way she walks and the radiant glance of her face, than the war-chariots of the Lydians or their footsoldiers in arms.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Beverly began to read, Deanna let her gaze fall on her face, drinking it in. When Deanna absorbed things, she tended to focus on everything. It was her empathetic nature. She noticed now how Beverly’s hands clung to the book, one hand gripping it so tightly she thought Beverly would rip a page. She didn’t think Beverly was one to get stage fright, but as Beverly continued to read, Deanna saw her grip loosen.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That man to me seems equal to the gods, the man who sits opposite you, and close by listens, to your sweet voice, and your enticing laughter— that indeed has stirred up the heart in my breast.” Deanna noticed Beverly’s lips, how they curved into small smiles and how she chewed them a little as she read the passages that Deanna realized hit close to home--a love for another woman that was being overshadowed. She noticed Beverly’s hair, how the red was more vibrant in the sun overhead, a glow that seemed to be mirrored in the simmering in her chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For whenever I look at you even briefly, I can no longer say a single thing, but my tongue is frozen in silence; instantly a delicate flame runs beneath my skin; with my eyes I see nothing;   my ears make a whirring noise.” Deanna noticed Beverly’s cheeks, how they flushed slightly as words of beauty filled the air between them, the minimal space seeming to grow even smaller as the words pulled Deanna in, throwing her ever deeper into her heart. She noticed Beverly’s voice, how the woman emphasized certain words and how her voice glided between them smoothly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span> “A cold sweat covers me, trembling seizes my body, and I am greener than grass. Lacking but little of death do I seem.” Deanna noticed the emotions boiling inside Beverly. The desire and the longing, and the small edges of fear that cut a jagged edge into the shining joy and calm the woman felt, the calm that seemed to grow whenever she made eye contact with Beverly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deanna murmured, “That was gorgeous.” Beverly swallowed and nodded, taking Deanna’s hand. She held their hands in Deanna’s lap, stroking her fingers gently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just say I had a perfect muse,” Beverly said, blushing again but holding her eyes on Deanna’s. Deanna grinned and, impulsively, kissed Beverly’s hand, a small mark of magenta lingering on her skin. Beverly gasped a little and Deanna saw a small tear. Beverly was nervous about something. Tradition, history, openness...all the possibilities spiralled through her head. But in the end, she knew that Beverly felt more at rest than ever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tugged the redhead’s hand and said, “Let’s go swim!” She started to pull Beverly down to the loch, the two slipping slightly on the steep hill. She heard Beverly begin to laugh, and she let the sound fill her, the sparkle pumping her heart as she ran faster, releasing Beverly’s hand as she leaped into the loch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The water was the perfect temperature, and she felt it soak her dress, the purple tulle and gauze floating around her. She turned to see Beverly hesitant at the shore. She smiled warmly and Beverly jumped in, water splashing onto Deanna’s face and hair as Beverly hit the water. Her blouse was clinging rather tightly to her skin because of the water, and Deanna couldn’t complain about the view.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beverly thought that the tulle floating in the water around Deanna made her angelic feeling even stronger, and she inhaled sharply. She splashed the woman, her small shriek echoing with delight. She was splashed back, and soon the two were engaged in a playful battle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They soon became tired and floated on their backs in the middle of the lake, occasionally making small ripples by moving a leg or a hand. Beverly glanced over at Deanna, whose eyes were scrutinizing the clouds. The water soaking Deanna’s curls was golden from the sun, and it dripped on her cheeks, trickling down her face like a pure tear. Her collarbone was glistening wet as well, and Beverly took her hand under the water, linking their now wrinkled hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deanna glanced over at Beverly, her red hair a dark crimson now from being soaked. It splayed behind her in ribbons, the red burning against the dark water. She stroked Beverly’s cheek and smiled softly. “A perfect muse,” she said, echoing Beverly’s words from earlier. She squeezed Beverly’s hand and said, “I like to think of water as the most powerful force. It can absorb all of us...our hopes, our...fears. And in the water, we don’t need to hold back.” She turned to Beverly again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beverly smiled somewhat wistfully at the sky and turned so they were face to face. “That’s how I see you,” she breathed. Before Deanna could react, Beverly stood, the water from her hair spattering Deanna with small drops that made her skin tingle as Beverly cradled the back of her head with a hand. Deanna leaned upwards, beginning to stand in the water as their lips connected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The water from their hair ran down their noses and onto their lips as they kissed. Deanna could scarcely believe that Beverly was being so bold, but as she felt Beverly’s hope swell in her mind, she let herself go. The sun shined on their faces, and it felt like the fire didn’t stop there. Her chest was burning as her heart thrummed faster, the water from the loch filling her mouth with the taste of pure water and of Beverly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Beverly kissed Deanna, she knew it was the right decision. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How could there have been any other decision? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Deanna was the light in her darkness, like the one from the sonnet. She was the beacon, the home, the hope, the heart, the ache, and the shine. Deanna’s hands were tangled in her hair, and hers were gripping soaking wet tulle. Their lips parted, and Beverly looked at Deanna, the water forming a picture frame around the moment that she never wanted to forget.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And as Deanna leaned in again, both recalled the words spoken by the loch earlier that day. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A perfect muse. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
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